


The Darkest Hour of the Darkest Night

by the_13th_battalion



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Mild Blood, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, based off a tumblr prompt, so many hugs, stereotypical nightmare opening, thankfully peter is there
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-07
Updated: 2019-10-07
Packaged: 2020-11-27 06:00:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20943476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_13th_battalion/pseuds/the_13th_battalion
Summary: Based on this prompt I received on Tumblr:iron dad prompt where Peter has a nightmare that tony died (and it’s the anniversary of uncle ben’s death) so he calls tony to make sure he’s alive and safe





	The Darkest Hour of the Darkest Night

**Author's Note:**

> So on my Tumblr (with the same username) I asked for writing prompts and this is one I got! Thanks to a lovely anonymous person for giving me feels and making me cry a little just imagining it <3 I also posted this fic on my Tumblr!
> 
> Also yes, the title is indeed a Hadestown reference. You got me.

_Peter finished covering the man in webs, attaching him to the wall, and kicked his gun away to join the pile. He scanned the dark street, on the lookout for any more thugs. Nearby, Tony did the same._

_“I think we’re good!” Peter said, relieved._

_Tony agreed and began to retract his suit. “I'll just call the boys in blue to come pick these crooks up, then we’re good to go.” He tapped the band on his wrist and a hologram sprang to life. “You wanna get some pizza? Eat at my place?” He grinned at Peter before he started the phone call._

_Peter grinned and took off his mask. “Yeah, that would be…that would be nice.”_

_Awkwardly, he fiddled with his web shooters while he waited for Tony to finish the call. He realized he should let Aunt May know he was still ok and with Tony. He looked up to see if Tony had completed his call. He had- the hologram displayed the website for a local pizza restaurant._

_“You feeling pepperoni or bacon? Actually, don't answer that. We’re doing pepperoni.”_

_“Oh yeah, that sounds really good!” Peter stepped closer. “Hey, um, Mr. Stark? Could we call Aunt May, please, to let her know- “_

_Peter cut off abruptly as two gunshots rang out in the street. He jumped and looked around, searching for the shooter. He stopped when he caught sight of the two dark stains spreading across the front of Tony’s shirt. Tony’s face contorted in pain, then his limp body fell to the ground._

_The world zoomed in and focused solely on Tony. Peter forgot the shooter. He forgot about calling Aunt May. He forgot the men trapped in webs around them. He only saw Tony’s crumpled form, blood already spreading onto the asphalt._

_“Mr. Stark!” he screamed, racing to him. He bent down, dropped his mask beside him, and rolled Tony on his back. His hands shook as he pressed them against the wounds. “Mr. Stark, just...just hold on! Help is coming! The-the police, remember? You called? They’ll be here soon a-and they’ll help!”_

_Tony looked up at him, eyes already glossing over. He started to reach up to touch Peter’s face._

_“It’s ok, Mr. Stark,” Peter said, leaning forward so Tony could reach his cheek, “It’ll be fine. Just hold on!”_

_Tony’s lips moved, as if he were trying to say something. Before Peter could ask what he was saying, his hand dropped and he stilled._

_“Mr. Stark?” Peter shook him. Sobs rose up in his throat. “Mr. Stark?? What is it? What- Mr. Stark! Mr. Stark, don’t leave! Don’t leave!! Don’t- come back! Come back, please!!” He collapsed against Tony’s chest, hands desperately grasping his shirt. “I need you. I need you, don’t leave, please!! Mr. Stark!!”_

Peter jumped and sat up, clutching his blanket in a white-knuckle grip. He looked around wildly. He found a small amount of relief in the familiar sight of his bedroom. He wiped the sweat off his forehead, struggling to chase away the images from his nightmare.

It had been a nightmare, hadn’t it?

Fresh panic seized him. The air thinned. His lungs contracted. His vision blurred. He tightened his grip on the blanket, hoping for a lifeline to reality. But what was real? He remembered going on that mission. He remembered that night. But Tony hadn’t been shot. He hadn't died. Not really.

Right?

A face swam into the front of his memory. Uncle Ben. Suddenly, the loss gripped his heart anew. The events of the day caught up to him and paired with his nightmare. It had been two years now, exactly two years, since Uncle Ben died. Despite the passing of so much time, he recalled the moment he learned of his death like it had happened hours ago.

Perhaps that’s why, in all the pain flooding his heart, there was a longing, a particular type of desperation. He needed security. He needed warmth. He needed someone there with him.

His first thought was to yell for Aunt May, but then he remembered she was still gone. She had wanted to stay at Uncle Ben’s grave to keep a vigil, but he had left. He hated to remember, especially with his parents’ graves so near as well. He glanced at his clock on his desk. Just after midnight. She wouldn’t be back for hours. He couldn’t call her either. He would never interrupt her during something so important, even though he knew she would be by his side in a minute if he asked.

Panic and desperation clawed at his insides with new ferocity. He was alone. He had no one.

Except...

He seized his phone off his nightstand. Even though his hands were trembling, he managed to unlock his phone and find a certain contact. He pressed the call button and held the phone to his ear.

One ring was all it took.

“Hey, Pete.”

Peter tried to answer but his relief at hearing Tony’s voice manifested into tears. He clutched his phone and wept.

“Kid? What’s wrong?” Tony asked, unchecked concern in his tone.

It took Peter several attempts to choke the words out. “I need you.”

Tony cursed under his breath. “Ok, ok, hold on! Where are you?”

“Home.”

“Ok, good. Stay there! I’m coming!”

There was a rustling sound on the other end. He heard Pepper ask what was wrong. Tony took the phone away and answered, “I don’t know, but Peter’s having a panic attack.” Then Tony spoke to Peter again. “Hey, stay on the phone, ok?”

“Ok.”

“Peter, is there anyone else with you?”

“No.” Peter thought he heard Tony’s suit thrusters starting up.

“You’re in your room?”

“Yes.”

“Ok, stay there. I’ll be there soon.”

Hardly meaning to, Peter whispered, “Hurry, please.”

Tony heard him. “I am, Peter, I promise.”

A minute passed. Just when Peter began to wonder how much longer it would be, there was a tap on the window. He peered outside. Tony hovered there, wearing his pajamas, his suit gloves, and suit boots. He had traded his phone for an earpiece.

Peter dropped his phone and the blanket and, filled with new energy, scrambled to the window. He unlatched it and tore it open. As soon as he could, Tony climbed inside, shutting off the thrusters. The gloves retracted. “Hey, are you ok?!”

Peter cried harder and dove into Tony’s arms. Immediately, Tony wrapped his arms securely around him. Peter pressed his face into his chest, hands desperately grabbing a hold on the back of his shirt. He vaguely heard Tony reassuring him, telling him to breathe, to listen to his voice. Peter only really heard the beating of Tony’s heart and the slight whirring of the arc reactor. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to ground himself on those sounds.

Peter had no idea how long they stood there in the darkness, the cool night air drifting in through the open window. At last, Peter could breathe and think. Tony guided him to his bed. They sat down together on the edge. The steady hand on his back relaxed Peter.

“Hey...,” Tony said softly, “What happened?”

Peter swallowed hard and averted his gaze. “Just a nightmare.”

“Must have been one hell of a nightmare.”

“Yeah, I guess.” A bit of guilt gnawed at Peter’s stomach. “Sorry I called you and made you come all this way just for a nightmare.”

“God, you sound just like me.”

Peter looked up in surprise. Tony shifted closer and sighed. “Kid, you were panicking. I wasn’t going to leave you to handle it yourself. You did the right thing. No one should be alone to handle things alone.”

Peter wrung his shirt in his hands and looked down again.

“Hey, where’s May anyway?” Tony asked.

“Oh, she’s...um, she’s at Uncle Ben’s grave.”

“Oh.” Tony paused. “That’s today?”

Peter’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Yes. Well, yesterday now, I guess, but...but yeah.”

Peter half expected the usual response. He anticipated the “oh I’m sorry” and “is there anything I can do?” Instead, Tony replied, “I’d say you’re handling it pretty well. Anniversaries suck.”

Peter frowned. “I guess so. I don’t think having a nightmare and then panicking is really ‘handling it well’ but...”

“Ok, hear me out. You probably spent the day remembering him, going to visit him, all that. That's draining by itself. And then you come home by yourself, stay by yourself, and therefore handle everything yourself. Yuck. Then you have a nightmare about his death-“

“Actually, um,” Peter interrupted, “I, uh, I didn’t...I didn’t dream about him. I dreamed about- about you.”

Tony stared at him. “About me?”

Peter nodded. “I dreamed that you died. I remembered Uncle Ben when I woke up, but...but my dream was about you.”

Silence fell. Several long seconds passed.

Finally, Tony spoke.

“Why?”

Peter knew the answer right away. He knew it in his heart. The words were on his lips in a second. Fear held those words back. Fear of those words being rejected. He remained quiet.

Tony squeezed his shoulder comfortingly. “Never mind, you don’t have to say. Sometimes speaking is good, but sometimes it’s not.”

Peter met his gaze. The concern and understanding in Tony’s eyes pierced Peter’s heart. Tony reached up and smoothed Peter’s hair, repeatedly stroking the damp strands with a tenderness Peter hadn’t received from anyone except Aunt May since Uncle Ben died. He leaned into Tony’s touch, thought of Uncle Ben and his father, and let fresh tears slide down his cheeks.

“I dreamed about it because I-I was thinking about- about losing Uncle Ben, and losing Mom and Dad, and I-I don’t know, I guess I just...I guess I’m afraid of losing you too because- because, um, you’re kind of like... You took their position.”

Tony stared. The unspoken words were louder than the spoken ones.

“Peter, I... I’m happy you trust me with that position.” Tony swallowed, emotion building up in his throat.

“That’s kind of why I called too. I just wanted to make sure you were alive. I know, it’s crazy.”

Tony smiled, such a genuine smile that it lit up his eyes. He brushed the tears off Peter’s face. “I’m ok, kid. I’ll always be here.”

Peter returned the smile. He leaned forward and embraced him. Tony hugged him tightly, one hand on his back and the other in his hair. Finally, Peter satisfied that longing for security and warmth. Finally, he got to tell Tony how much he means to him. Finally!

“I love you,” Peter whispered.

He felt Tony’s smile widen against his head. “I love you, too."


End file.
